As the Romans Do
by WhatareWordsIfnotLife
Summary: Loki finds himself forced to endure a punishment worse than what he suspects the All-Father capable of. Unfortunately, he has only himself to blame. Can he truly endure the price that comes of hiding on Midgard or will he happily turn himself over to the Chitauri? And why is this thing called coffee so infuriatingly delicious?
1. Escape

Loki was afraid. He, however, was not afraid of his brother who stood beside him looking just as idiotic as ever as he said his farewells to the group that called themselves the Avengers. He was not afraid of even Odin to whom he was to stand trial in front; the old man would no doubt show leniency if nothing more than for the sake of Frigga. Loki knew better than to expect a full pardon, but he did presume to be allowed to keep his life, which was all that was necessary for his eventual escape from whatever punishment the All-father deemed just. As his brother wrapped up his goodbyes Loki glared out at the group of superhero nitwits who had foiled his plan to rule Midgard; he certainly was not afraid of them, despite his current position. Loki took pause in his thoughts long enough to cast a sideways glance at the unassuming man, the scientist, who had tossed him around as if he were nothing more than a child's plaything; he swiftly averted his gaze the moment the meek man's eyes locked with his own. Admittedly, the green giant had been an unforeseeable, as well as misfortunate, oversight on his part. Still, it was not he who caused his normal flippant, bravado to falter; though, he would be a fool not to, to some degree, be a trifle weary of _that_ one. And a fool he certainly was not, which was why he, at that very moment, was desperately trying to calculate a way out of the very real threat of his imminent death.

The Chitauri had endorsed his campaign to rule Midgard, but only so long as he succeeded in his bid for total sovereignty. It had been made abundantly clear that failure would not be an option, especially for one without a death wish, for which Loki had none. The fools of Midgard thought themselves rid of the Alien threat, but they underestimated the Chitauri. The Other would be no doubt conferring with his master and plotting an even more hideous strategy than the one Loki had taken part in. Loki could care less about their nefarious designs, he would just as soon see the nine realms burn, however, he did not fancy burning far sooner than they. Therein lay his dilemma; his options were quite limited on how to go about securing his safety. He could make the assumption that Odin would somehow protect him from the Chitauri, a scenario that would have made him smirk in derision were it not for the damnable muzzle he was forced to endure, or, he could simply escape before he reached Asgard and take his chances alone. He much preferred the latter of his options; Odin, Thor, and the rest of their realm had lost all of Loki's previous adoration and faith. No, he would not leave his fate in their gangrenous hands.

It was time for them to depart and Loki was suddenly unsure of his half-laid plan to freedom. In all honesty, the God of Mischief was either about to do something extremely clever or terribly daft. Well, he thought wryly, if my Neanderthal of a brother can scrape by on luck and brawn alone, perhaps I too have a chance as well. With that thought in mind, Loki took hold of the Tesseract, turned the hand in tandem with his brother and, almost as abruptly, let go.

The pain was excruciating. He felt as if every piece if his being was coming undone. His descent into the wormhole the day the Bifrost had been destroyed by Thor's hammer could hardly compare; indeed, that time had almost been pleasant, well, up until the madness had set in. Now though, now he was sure he would be pulled apart until there was nothing left of him. Ripping himself away from the Tesseract's pull had very well proven to be the worst scheme he'd ever followed through with. Thor, he decided, was an atrocious role model to base one's life decisions on. It occurred to Loki, just as he was set to accept his ill fate, that, once again, he had failed miserably in succeeding.

Oh that wouldn't do, that wouldn't do at all. With every ounce of willpower he yet possessed, Loki forced what was left of his magic into guiding himself, albeit aimlessly, towards solid ground wherever that might be. It could be Asgard even; it mattered not, for he would, with great elation, kiss the ground. Loki braced himself as much as was possible against the ongoing agony, unaware that he had managed to force a path back to Midgard where he barreled into what had previously been a serene lake. A young woman, standing on a screened in porch of a well-worn cabin, played witness to his perilous arrival. She dropped the mug in which her freshly brewed coffee resided and whispered one incredulous word, "Fuck." A second later and she was speeding towards the lake, the screen door banging heavily behind her, muttering to herself, "It's too damn early for bodies to be flying right out of the sky."


	2. Saving a life Sorta

Hi there, if you're on chapter two then I maintain hope that this isn't actually that bad of a story. Forgive me for any plot holes or my ignorance of the Marvel universe. Please, not rotten tomatoes at least! It's all in good fun. Enjoy! :)

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It was a fairly brisk day, certainly not the climate for an impromptu rescue mission where diving into a somewhat frigid lake in only ones ratty t-shirt turned nightgown was necessary. Really, what was she expecting to accomplish? Anyone falling from that altitude would be pulverized once they hit the water. It wasn't a shallow lake by any means, but any normal person would be killed on impact alone. But, on the off-chance she could save a life, Maddie was determined to try. Her bare feet slapped against the wooden planks of the old dock as she pushed herself to the end where she not-so-gracefully launched herself into the water as close to where she'd seen the body go in as she could manage.

Oh, that is _cold _she all but shrieked in her mind. She forced herself not to scramble immediately to the surface like her body demanded she do, but instead commanded her limbs to propel her on until she couldn't hold her breath any longer. She breached the water's surface long enough to scan the area. No sign of a body floating had her dipping back under. I'm going to regret this, she thought, opening her eyes to try to find her missing person. As expected, her contact lenses protested against the rush of water, one slipping out of her left eye leaving that one a blurry hindrance. Thankfully the other stayed mostly in place as she scoured the murky expanse. There, a few meters ahead, she caught the faint glint of something metallic looking. Spurred on by the sighting she swam in that direction.

Please do me a favor and don't be dead, Maddie begged inwardly as she approached what was clearly, even to her handicapped vision, a body. Wasting no time she grabbed ahold of the closest thing to her, a limp wrist, noting vaguely the feel of hard metal under her hand as she did. She kicked off of the lake bed, struggling to bring up her precious cargo with her. The cold had seeped into her limbs, stiffening them and making every movement feel sluggish and increasingly difficult. With only her legs and the one arm to do the work, making it back to the surface was slow going. She broke through just as her oxygen levels had diminished dangerously. Aware that she was not the only one in need of oxygen, Maddie wrapped her other arm around her new friend and hoisted them up above the water using her own body as support. "Hey, are you alive? Can you hear me?" She called frantically, spitting out water in-between words. No response came, not that she really expected one. "Buddy, if you could wake up now that would really be great. No offense, but I totally can't feel my body anymore and lugging you all the way back to shore is going to suck the big one." Still no answer, "Oh, hell."

It took some doing, but she finally reached shallow waters. Her now aching appendages, rigid and turning slightly blue, made her look like a clumsy, newborn foal as she struggled to stand. Awkwardly she gathered up the sodden material of the man's strange clothing and dragged him haltingly the rest of the way to shore. The first thing she noticed when they were both on land was some sort of metal mouthpiece covering the lower half of the his face. The second, rather startling bit of information she gathered, was that the man was blue. Not just a little blue, but full on Smurfette, can't get any bluer than this- blue. She knelt back on her haunches, "No, that's not weird, not at all." Just as soon as the color appeared, it faded back into a pale, human pallor. She shook her head, "Yeah, absolutely. Why not?" Deciding to just go with it, Maddie reached over and gingerly touched the mask on the man's face. Carefully, she felt around for some way to pry it off. Surprisingly, it released itself with little prodding on her part. What now, she wondered, mouth to mouth? Maddie leaned down to administer what would probably be the shoddiest form of CPR ever, but stopped short when green eyes sprang open. "Oh," she said fairly aware of her hair dripping water onto his face, "You're not dead."

The man below her was, actually, quite nice-looking. She hadn't noticed even after his face was free from that strange contraption, too preoccupied with how she had never gone through with being a summer lifeguard and how that really would have come in handy right about then, to gawk appreciatively. But there he was, not dead, a monumental relief, and now she could relax and take in the sight of him. Flawless, if a bit pallid, skin with sharp, angular features; yeah, he could easily be someone's idea of a fantasy. "Where," a velvety, yet masculine voice intruded on her musings, "Am I?" Maddie stood slowly, freezing and shaking like a leaf, "That would be Dodgins, Virginia." The man abruptly sat up, "Midgard. I'm on Midgard." It wasn't a question and from the way he sort of spat the word, it was clearly not the place he wanted to find himself. Maddie covered her breasts, which were bra-less and very visibly affected by the cold, "Sure, if that's what you crazy kids are calling it these days." The man whose life she had (possibly) saved suddenly turned an icy stare on her, "You. Do you know who I am?" Teeth chattering she shook her head in the negative, "Not a clue, but something tells me that, whoever you are, you are definitely not from around here." The image of blue skin phasing back to white came vividly to her mind, "Really, really, not from around here." The man smirked at her remark, eyes remaining void of humor, "No, I'm really not."


End file.
